


Thou Little Tiny Child

by darthrevaan (Burning_Nightingale)



Series: Send Me A Ship AU Fics [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Mush, M/M, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 07:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3760210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Nightingale/pseuds/darthrevaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It only happened once.</i>
</p><p>Obi-Wan has kept his stranger Near-Human abilities a secret all this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thou Little Tiny Child

**Author's Note:**

> I figure every writer has to try each big trope at least once. I apologize for the amount of mushiness in this fic. Put it all down to hormones. 
> 
> Written for my AU prompt ask meme, for the prompt: one night stand and falling pregnant AU.

It only happened once.

Obi-Wan had known how Anakin felt for a long time, and had admitted reluctantly to himself that he felt the same way. He thought he’d dealt with it, though, compartmentalized it away into the ‘want but can never have’ box. Though it hurt, every day, to be so near and not together, it was a sacrifice he had to live with. It was what it meant to be a Jedi.

But something was different about that night. The mission had been hard; people had died, good men and women, clones and the civilians helping them. Obi-Wan had felt drained, emotionally wrung out in a way he had rarely experienced before. Anakin could tell, it was so obvious.

It was a mistake to lean on him, allow Anakin to hold him close for comfort. It was an even worse mistake to kiss him; but the biggest mistake was to keep on kissing him, looking for distraction after everything that happened. The biggest mistake was losing himself in Anakin, in his hot skin and his mouth and his hands and his burning eyes. He should never have let himself touch, kiss; should never have let himself fall asleep in Anakin’s arms afterward, held close and listening to the soft, slow sound of his breathing.

It only happened once, and now Obi-Wan felt like the Force was laughing at him, as he sat in Bant’s examination room and felt unexpected tears prick his eyes. “What the stanging hell do I do?” he whispered, disbelieving.

Bant laced her webbed fingers together in front of her, sympathetic and sad. “The Jedi Council recommend-”

“I know what they _recommend_ ,” Obi-Wan said, more harshly than he meant to. He passed a hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“Obi-Wan. It’s alright.” Bant was looking at him seriously. “It happens. You wouldn’t believe who it’s happened to.”

“And you wouldn’t be able to tell me.” Obi-Wan looked down at his clasped hands. “I guess I’ll just have to…”

“I can do it,” Bant said, her voice soothing. “I’ll call a medical droid, right now. Get it over and done with. I can even wipe the memory afterward, I’m authorized to do that under patient confidentiality. No one will know.”

Obi-Wan still looked at his hands, twisting them together and apart. “I don’t know, Bant…”

“Otherwise you can claim religious or cultural objections,” Bant said. “That would mean a year-long stint on Marfa, though, and you know what the Council thinks of that.” She raised an eye ridge. “Lots of time to start getting _attached_.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if Bant was encouraging him to keep the child or not. Her tone was so neutral, her face impassive, and not even twenty six years of friendship and covertly reading her emotions in the Force could help him. She was a closed book.

“Think about it,” she continued, “You think you could give it up now, fine, but you don’t really know what it is you’re agreeing to lose. You think you do, but you don’t _know_. Right now that child is nothing but a tiny bundle of cells; but what happens when you start being able to sense its consciousness in the Force? When you start hearing its half-formed thoughts? When it starts to kick, when you can feel its tiny hands and feet against your hand?” She looked him dead in the eye. “Can you really say that when you have that baby and it’s there, in front of you, and it’s _yours_ , that you’ll be able to turn away and let the healers take it? Knowing you’ll never see it again?”

Obi-Wan was staring at her. “Bant- have you-?”

“Not myself.” Bant glanced away for a moment. “But I’ve worked in the Marfa clinic. It crushes people, Obi-Wan, even when they think they know what they’re giving up. It’s the sacrifice of being a Jedi, maybe, but it always hurts more than they think it will. It breaks their hearts.” She looked at him again. “I just think maybe you should consider giving up the baby now, and spare yourself the heartache.”

Obi-Wan nodded and looked away. “I will think about it, Bant.”

He left after that, and wandered the corridors a little. It was late at night, and he saw few other Jedi as he went.

Eventually he found himself outside a familiar door. _I can’t tell him_ , he thought, looking at the name _Skywalker_ emblazoned on the wood. Anakin still hadn’t forgiven him for pretending their night together never happened; if he learnt there was a child involved, who knew what he’d do. It would be even worse if he knew Obi-Wan was contemplating terminating the pregnancy.

Still, Obi-Wan found himself reaching out and tapping in the code that would open the door. Anakin hadn’t changed that, at least; the door slid upwards and let him into the silent, dark apartment. He could sense Anakin, fast asleep in the other room. Silently, without turning on any lights, Obi-Wan slipped across the room and into Anakin’s bedroom.

He was spread out across the mattress on his back, snoring lightly. Obi-Wan smiled at him from the doorway. _Oh, Kenobi_. _Still a fool for him, as always_. He walked across the room and perched on the edge of the bed, avoiding Anakin’s out flung arm, and regarded him in silence.

Yes, his feelings hadn’t abated. He knew Anakin’s hadn’t, either. He knew that if he told Anakin about the child, his former apprentice would probably suggest they do something very, very stupid, like run away together. And Obi-Wan could admit to himself, if only in the secrecy of his own heart, that there was a tiny part of him that wanted to do just that.

Almost unconsciously, Obi-Wan laid a hand over his stomach. It was only once, something that should never have happened, but they had been given a child. He knew some didn’t believe that any higher power guided conception, that it was a simple biological process, but he had been brought up listening to his clan master tell of the importance of the gift of a child, the sign that Ranat the life-giver had blessed the union. He looked down at Anakin’s peaceful, sleeping face and knew he loved him beyond almost all else; even if they couldn’t raise their child together, surely Obi-Wan had a duty to honour the Graces’ blessing by giving life to the child anyway? By giving birth to _Anakin’s_ child?

He touched Anakin’s hand, gently laced their fingers together, and knew his decision had already been made.

/

He didn’t tell Anakin the truth. His cover story was that he was going away for an extended mission in the Outer Rim, and it would take a year or longer.

Anakin saw him off on the landing platform, his expression bitter. “This is because of us, isn’t it?” he asked in a low voice, when everyone else was out of earshot.

It was exactly the assumption Obi-Wan had wanted him to make, but the shining hurt in Anakin’s eyes hit harder than he thought it would. “I’m sorry, Anakin,” he said softly. “You know I…” He wanted to say it, for once he wanted to _actually_ say it, but he couldn’t quite get the words to come out. _I love you, Anakin. I always will._ “But it’s not the Jedi way,” he said, giving up on expressing his feelings. “Some time apart will do us good.”

Anakin just muttered something unintelligible and looked away, scowling down at the ground. “I…I’ll miss you,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

Anakin looked back up at him, and the full weight of the anguish in his gaze stole Obi-Wan’s breath. “It’ll be like half of me is gone, cut away, every moment you’re not there,” Anakin murmured.

“We’re leaving, Master Kenobi!” one of the Knights behind them shouted.

Obi-Wan wanted to say something, anything, to make it better, but words failed him and Anakin was already motioning him toward the ship. “You’d better go. Don’t want to miss it.”

“Anakin…” But Obi-Wan didn’t know what to say, and the ship was starting its drives. “Goodbye,” Obi-Wan said, and then turned toward the ramp.

The flight was a long one, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help going over and over the scene again in his mind, thinking of what he should have said, should have done.

Lately it seemed like he’d done everything wrong.

/

The weeks passed slowly on Marfa.

Obi-Wan was growing to hate pregnancy. He felt sick most of the time, and no one had much sympathy. “Grin and bear it,” the healers told him in chipper tones.

There were only a few Jedi here, less than fifty expecting and around twenty healers to attend to them. It was a strange community, closed off from both the wider galaxy and the locals, and the atmosphere was constantly tinged with traces of regret, bitterness and deep, lasting sorrow. It almost didn’t feel _healthy_.

There wasn’t much to do, either, aside from gentle daily exercise and reading, or enjoying the gardens when the weather was fine. Obi-Wan knew many of the Jedi here had taken to shutting themselves in their rooms, locked away with only holofilms and shows and the Holonet for company.

He was going to make a point of talking about this place with the Council when he got back.

Slowly, he passed out of the first trimester and into the second, and started feeling less sick. He also started to grow around the middle, which fascinated most of the other expectant parents. It wasn’t odd to Obi-Wan, who had known his whole life that his species possessed this capability, but for the mostly human populace of the Marfa clinic, it was a revelation. They would gather round to feel when his child started to kick, and squeal with delight as it – she, actually – tapped their hands.

Obi-Wan sensed her thoughts, sometimes. They weren’t all that interesting, mostly just barely conscious feelings like ‘warmth’ and ‘darkness’. It was only when he was sitting alone one day, staring out at the calming view of the rolling fields, that he caught her thought of ‘parent’ accompanied by an overwhelming, unmistakable feeling of love.

It caught him off guard completely. She _loved_ him. His little, barely conscious daughter, who knew nothing beyond the small dark space she was growing in, knew that he was her parent and _loved_ him. He pressed a shaking hand to his stomach, and felt her tap it once. His baby. His _daughter_.

Obi-Wan could see what Bant meant now, about attachment.

/

Obi-Wan was around twenty five weeks and already sick to the back teeth of being on Marfa when he walked into his room and nearly fell over in shock.

“ _Anakin_?!” he gasped, clutching the doorframe with one hand. “What are you _doing here_?”

“Well, I could ask you the same,” Anakin said, his arms crossed, his expression thunderous. He had been leaning on the windowsill, but he stood up as Obi-Wan quickly came into the room and closed the door. “This isn’t exactly a mission on the Outer Rim, is it?”

“Well, um…” Obi-Wan shifted awkwardly, crossing his arms over his chest and then instantly regretting it as the movement brought Anakin’s attention to his rounded stomach.

All the anger seemed to drain out of Anakin as he took a hesitant step forward. “Are you really…can I…?”

He reached out one hand, and Obi-Wan caught it gently and pressed it to his stomach. “Can you feel her?” he asked softly.

“Her,” Anakin whispered, his face breaking into a smile as he closed his eyes. “It’s a girl.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan could feel Anakin touching their daughter’s mind through his links with both of them, and a flare of pain started in his heart. It took a moment for him to realize it was heartache rather than actual physical pain.

Anakin drew him close, one hand still pressed to his stomach, and rested their foreheads together. “She’s got a strong kick,” he murmured. Obi-Wan nodded, smiling; he’d felt it too.

“Come with me, Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered. “Let’s just go, right now.”

And Obi-Wan _wanted_ to, he wanted to so badly it scared him. It took a few moments before he could find his voice. “You know we can’t, Anakin.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re _Jedi_. It’s not what Jedi do.”

Anakin stepped back and took Obi-Wan’s face in his hands. “And what if we weren’t Jedi?” he said softly. “What if we just stopped being Jedi completely?”

Obi-Wan gazed up at him. “But what would we do?” he murmured, “Where would we go?”

“Anywhere,” Anakin said. “But you can’t stay here, Obi-Wan. You shouldn’t have to give the baby up to them.”

“I-” Obi-Wan turned away, his voice cracking slightly. He walked away from Anakin and walked back, a sort of aborted, frustrated pacing. “I made a dedication to the Order,” Obi-Wan said, “A promise, vows. So did you. Can we really throw that away?”

“For something as important as raising our own child? Yes.” Anakin was firm, decided; Obi-Wan could sense it. “Being a parent is about giving up whatever’s needed to look after your child. If they’re not the number one priority, you’re not worthy of the name.” Then, lower, “You’re not going to be that child’s father if you give her to the Jedi, Obi-Wan.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan murmured, “That’s what I- what I expected.”

“But is it what you want?” Anakin asked quietly.

Obi-Wan turned away from him and hugged his arms to himself, hunching his shoulders. “I don’t know,” he admitted in a whisper, “I don’t know any more.”

Anakin laid a hand on his shoulder. “Will you come with me, then?”

“I don’t- I need more time,” Obi-Wan said heavily. “I can’t throw the Order, everything, away in just an hour. I need- I need to think about it.”

“Alright,” Anakin said quietly. “I’ll come back when I can. I’ll probably only be able to make it in one more time, though.”

Obi-Wan nodded, and Anakin’s hand slipped off his shoulder as he turned to leave. Obi-Wan was struck by a moment of blind panic at the thought of him leaving without saying goodbye; he turned and caught his arm, saying, “Wait, Anakin…”

Anakin turned, and without really thinking about it, Obi-Wan leaned up and kissed him gently. Anakin returned it slowly, cupping Obi-Wan’s jaw with one hand. “Goodbye,” Obi-Wan said quietly when they parted.

Anakin smiled. “Hopefully not for too long.”

/

Leaving the Order behind was a lot to think about. It wasn’t that it was something Obi-Wan had _never_ considered; he had, and seriously. It was that he’d never before felt that the possibility of leaving was so real, so tangible. With Satine, before the war, leaving the Jedi would have been a struggle of pain and hardship. Now it felt like all he would have to do would be to tell Anakin ‘yes’, and he would take care of all the rest.

The others, both parents and healers, sensed a change in him, but they didn’t know what had caused it. They had never found any evidence of Anakin’s visit; Obi-Wan didn’t know how he’d been so discreet, but he prayed he could do it again.

It was turning into autumn on Marfa, and Obi-Wan felt like he was getting heavier by the day. He also still didn’t have a clear answer to his dilemma.

 _What if Anakin came right now_? he thought to himself one night, sitting out on a veranda. _If he popped up out of those bushes there and asked you to make a decision, right now, what would you say_?

But he still had nothing. The Order had been his life, his family, his _everything_ , for as long as he could remember. But sitting here in the darkening twilight, he could feel the baby moving, kicking, and he could imagine a new life with her, and with Anakin.

He wasn’t supposed to name her; that was another way of getting attached. But the name had come to him one evening and now he couldn’t shake it. It was customary on Stewjon to name your child in a way that honoured your parents or family. His niece, Lia-Wan, for example, was named after his mother’s grandmother.

His father’s mother had been Vera-Len; and that, Obi-Wan had decided, was a perfect name for his daughter. Vera-Wan Kenobi.

 _Or Vera-Wan Skywalker_ , he thought, absently stroking his stomach with one hand. _Traditionally she should take a name from both of us._

He’d never even laid eyes on her, but he already adored her; her kicks, her wriggling, her quiet little thoughts. They had a bond through the Force, now; he’d had some very strange dreams in the past weeks, some influenced by her, and some that he wasn’t sure about. He thought they might possibly be prophetic. He had been loath to speak of them to the healers; what he _wanted_ was to talk to Master Yoda, but he had a strong suspicion he had fallen out of the Grand Master’s good graces.

It would, as Bant had promised, break his heart to give Vera-Wan to the Jedi. But he had sworn his life to them; wasn’t that the sacrifice he had promised to make?

He still hadn’t decided three days later when some kind of alarm started going off around the compound.

“What in the galaxy is that?” one of the women asked, standing. A group of them were sitting outside, taking in the last of the autumn sun. The alarm could be heard clearly, all around them.

“Maybe we should go back to our rooms?” another lady asked.

Obi-Wan had a strong suspicion he knew what the alarm was about, and felt a swoop in his stomach that had nothing to do with Vera-Wan. “Yes,” he said quietly, “We should all go back to our rooms.”

He found exactly what he expected; Anakin was pacing agitatedly backward and forward across his room. He practically launched himself across the space between them when Obi-Wan appeared in the door. “Obi-Wan…”

Obi-Wan didn’t even think about it; he just pulled Anakin to him and kissed him deeply. It felt right, somehow. Anakin didn’t speak for a moment when they broke apart, just stroked one thumb across Obi-Wan’s cheek. Then he said quietly, “If we’re going, we need to go now.”

Obi-Wan almost didn’t hear him; he was noticing something strange. Vera-Wan was reacting to his worry, the way she reacted to some of his stronger emotions; and now she was reaching up through their bond, and sensing the bond he had with Anakin, reaching out to him…

“She knows you,” Obi-Wan said in an awed whisper. “She knows it’s you.”

Anakin didn’t speak, his mouth working slightly as if he wanted to but didn’t know what to say, a slight frown creasing the skin between his eyebrows. Then his face went blank. “She’s touching my mind, through you,” he murmured after a second.

And in a moment, Obi-Wan’s decision was made. “Let’s go,” he said quietly, “Quickly.”

For a second Anakin just stared at him, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Then the most wonderful smile broke out on his face. “Yeah,” he said, “Let’s go.”

Later Obi-Wan would barely remember how they got out of the clinic. There was a lot of running involved, and some hiding, and some very fast piloting of Anakin’s ship that made Obi-Wan feel so sick it was like he was back in the first trimester. But eventually they were beyond the scope of Marfa’s weak tracking equipment, and Anakin was still grinning from ear to ear as he asked, “So, where to?”

Obi-Wan didn’t have to think about it very long. “Stewjon,” he said quietly. “They’ll know what they’re doing there, obviously. And my mother would never forgive me if she didn’t get to meet her granddaughter.”

“Stewjon it is, then,” Anakin said, tapping the information into the navicomp. A moment later they were soaring away through the stars.

/

The twilight hours were always quiet, out at sea. The boat rocked in the gentle swell, and Obi-Wan could hear his father’s soft humming from where he sat at the helm. A light breeze swept across the waves and through the gaps in the railing, and he could feel warm puffs of air brush his neck from where Anakin was breathing silently, leaning against him.

His mother said Stewjoni babies were always most active at twilight, and Vera-Wan was doing her level best to prove that now, wriggling around like a worm in Obi-Wan’s arms. “I still can’t get over how beautiful she is,” Anakin murmured.

Obi-Wan smiled down at her. “I still think her surname should be Skywalker.”

Anakin shook his head. “Nope. I married you, remember?”

“So you claim.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “ _Anakin Kenobi_. Honestly.”

“It’s my name, I can do what I want with it,” Anakin said.

“That you can, I suppose.” Obi-Wan could feel his marriage bangle now; he was still getting used to the weight of it. Where in many cultures a ring was used, the Stewjoni had thick bangles, usually made of gold and engraved with the names of the bound individuals, as well as a prayer for happiness or prosperity or long life. The parents of the couple commissioned them; Obi-Wan’s parents had had a prayer for health and safety engraved on theirs.

“You know,” Obi-Wan said quietly, “you never told me how you found out I was on Marfa.”

“Apparently my moping was so pitiful our friends started a campaign to find out where you were and reunite us,” Anakin said quietly. “To say we were shocked when Bant revealed the truth…well, that would be an understatement.”

Obi-Wan cringed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I just…I knew if I told you, you’d suggest…well, this,” he nodded to the scene around them, “And I didn’t think I wanted that, then.”

“I know.” Anakin’s arm tightened around him. “I know why you didn’t say anything. I’ve known you for quite a long time, remember?”

They both laughed quietly, and Obi-Wan leant his head back onto Anakin’s shoulder. “I love you,” he said, so quiet his words were almost lost in the noise of the wind. Even after everything that had happened it was still hard for him to say those words; it was still hard to fight the instinct to crush them, hide them. He knew Anakin appreciated it, each time he managed to say them, and also that he knew when Obi-Wan was thinking them but couldn’t quite get them past his mouth.

“I love you too,” Anakin murmured, placing a gentle kiss in Obi-Wan’s hair, “I love you so, so much.”


End file.
